L'appel du Vide
by PHANGIRLFOREVER
Summary: Phil notices Dan becoming more and more distant, and doesn't know why, until one day when everything goes horribly wrong. Yes, this is one of those weird suicidal fan fics, just telling you in advance.
1. Chapter 1

Phil ran up the stairs to his flat, smiling to himself. Usually running was out of the question, but today he felt different. Lighter, more carefree. It was a beautiful day, he'd just finished a video and was ready to upload it, and the US tour still seemed far enough away that it didn't require much attention.

He'd just returned from the store, picking up a few groceries. Dan had stayed at home, promising to clean the kitchen. _We'll see about that_ , Phil thought to himself. _If he's actually bothered to get up from his browsing position and clean, I'll be wondering what the heck happened to my flat mate._

Letting himself inside, Phil peered around. Dan wasn't on the couch, which was a good sign, although the dent he usually occupied was squished down, so he hadn't been gone long. Tentatively, he headed to the kitchen, expecting the pile of filthy dishes to still be there. Oddly enough, Dan stood by the sink, arms covered in soapy water. He wore all black - as per usual - and stared intently at his hands. Then, as if entranced, slowly pulled a long, silver knife from underwater. Murmuring under his breath, Dan lifted the dripping knife into the air. Phil jumped backwards, the sight sending shivers down his spine.

"Dan? What are you doing?" He asked. Dan jumped too, sending the knife clattering to the floor and narrowly missing his foot. " _Phil!_ Are you trying to get me killed? You don't sneak up on someone holding a knife!" Dan cried, brown eyes shooting sparks. Phil stared back at his friend, shocked at the sudden outburst. "Look, I'm sorry. I was just, um, wondering what you were doing with that." Noticing the look Dan was giving him, he back peddled. "Not that it matters what you were doing, that is. I was just wondering." He stuttered, backing out of the room.

It was weird, Phil reflected. He'd never before been scared of Dan, he'd never had any reason to. But the look Dan had given him after asking what he'd been doing could only be described in one way. _Murderous_.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Phil dreamt. It wasn't unusual, he often had false realities spin through his head while he slept, but tonight's were different.

 _He was floating, spinning in a cold, black mist. Darkness surrounded him, and everything was deathly silent. It seemed as if his senses had disappeared as abruptly as his sense of peace earlier that day. Suddenly, the mist cleared and Phil found himself in his kitchen._

 _He was standing in the doorway looking in. Dan had his back to him, murmuring something. With a jolt, Phil realized that the scene was a perfect replica of earlier that day. He knew he was going to say it, blurt out the obvious question, and risk angering his friend again. This time, however, it was different. Just as he was about to startle the brown haired boy, he heard the words spoken under his breath. "L'appell du vide. Be strong. L'appell du vide."_

 _If Phil hadn't been worried before, he was now. He hadn't heard what Dan had said before, couldn't possibly know. He let out a cry, struggling to turn and run away from the sight of his friend with a knife. With a swift movement, Dan whirled around, a cold smile on his face. He stalked towards Phil like a cat would to a trapped mouse, in no hurry, it was more like a game._

 _When he reached Phil, he stepped behind him while Phil watched with huge, frightened eyes. "Dan? What-what's going on?" He squeaked, trembling in shock. Dan bent his head to come to eye level with his victim, his smile gone. "I needed you, Phil. I reached out desperately, needing someone to anchor me, something to tether me to sanity."_

 _He stepped back, brown eyes black in the light, looking like pools of dark blood. "You weren't there. You let me flail. You left me alone to lose myself to this. To surrender to the darkness inside me." He looked away, and when he finally met Phil's horrified gaze again tears brimmed in his eyes._

 _"You left me, Phil."_


	3. Chapter 3

Phil's eyes snapped open.

He lay in bed, limbs splayed in a frantic attempt to escape the horrible nightmare. Cold, grey light seeped through the window. Lion surveyed his domain from Phil's shelf. It was a normal day. _Then why does everything feel so wrong?_

Phil stood up reluctantly and paced to his bedroom door. In the hallway, everything seemed quiet. But as he walked into the lounge, an odd sight greeted him. Or rather, the lack of a familiar sight. Dan wasn't there, but his phone was.

"Dan?" Phil called.

"Dan!" Begging there to be an answer.

"DAN!" Begging it wasn't too late.

A feeling of horror overcame him as he ran through the flat, desperately hoping his friend had just fallen asleep and couldn't hear him, or maybe gone out for a walk and forgot his phone. But there was only one room left, one room Dan could be in. Phil padded over to the kitchen doorway. He braced himself, and stepped inside, opening his eyes.

His flatmate was sprawled on the ground, blood pooling on the floor, running steadily from his wrists. Phil stood in place, shocked, not able to process what he saw. "Dan!" He yelped, rushing to his side, hand reaching for his neck. No pulse. That's when he saw it. The same knife as the night before was gripped in his hand, red stains on the cold metal. A crushing weight seemed to fall on Phil, grief pushing him into the ground, hopelessness holding him there.

 _Why did you do this?_ Phil wailed inwardly, burying his face in Dan's neck. _Why did you leave me all alone?_ Blinking away tears, he suddenly saw the angle Dan's head lay at. It was unnatural, he could never have just fallen like that. Following his flatmate's unseeing gaze, all of a sudden Phil knew what Dan was looking at. Written on their white cupboard door, in dark crimson blood, were three words.

 _L'appel du vide._


End file.
